


Reclaim

by lettertoelise



Series: After the Storm (there is another storm) [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, One Shot, Post-Episode: s03e10 Maveth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5698771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettertoelise/pseuds/lettertoelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Events directly after episode 3x10.  </p><p>The look on Fitz’s face told her everything as he slowly pulled back and broke their embrace.  His thumb slid delicately against the angle of her cheekbone, wiping the tears as he wordlessly communicated what she’d wanted to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reclaim

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down to write the last chapter of my fluffy vacation story and THIS happened - absolutely the last thing I was planning on writing today! But I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> It is completely unbeta'd so expect a flurry of dependent clauses and extra commas. :)

The look on Fitz’s face told her everything as he slowly pulled back and broke their embrace.  His thumb slid delicately against the angle of her cheekbone, wiping the tears as he wordlessly communicated what she’d wanted to know.  

Jemma heard Coulson’s voice tugging them into the present.  “Let’s get cleaned up,” he was saying.  “Debrief as soon as we touch down.”

 

Fitz was being ushered away, Bobbi looking him over carefully for injuries.   _Injuries?_   It wasn’t until he started to walk Jemma noticed the stiffness of his gait and her eyes flew to the gash on his forehead.  How could she have missed it?

 

“How did-?”

 

“It’s nothing,” he stopped her, brushing away her eager fingers.

 

His hand was elusive as they made their way down to the med bay, Jemma’s seeking out the warm press of his palm against hers, only to find it stuffed in a pocket or curled around his wrist.  

 

“You’ll let me examine you,” Jemma said, more of a statement than a question.  Fitz raised an eyebrow critically, and gestured to her cheek.

 

“You see about getting your own cuts and bruises cared for before you worry about mine, yeah?”  His voice met with Jemma’s irritated puff.  Even after diving through a hole in the universe for her, he still managed to be completely impossible.  

 

At the door they separated and where Jemma knew he would need to shower and have his wounds treated, the loss of him left her feeling hollow, wandering aimlessly until Bobbi finally forced her to sit down and stitch the angry wound aching across the side of her face.  

 

“Will’s dead.”  Jemma found the words spilled out of their own accord.  Bobbi looked up at her knowingly and paused to take Jemma’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze.  

 

“Fitz tell you?”

 

“He didn’t need to.  Will died the moment I came back through that portal.”  Jemma was staring down at her wrists, left purple and sore from the restraints Hydra had used to bind her.  In a moment, Bobbi’s arms had come up around the young woman’s shoulders.  

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

Jemma nodded mechanically, but the energy to grieve had been washed out of her with the flood of tears she’d already released.  Her senses were reeling from the bright lights overhead, the adrenaline that had sustained her thus far finally fading.

The team gathered in Coulson’s office for the debrief, shoulders collectively slumped in exhaustion.  Jemma cast her eyes downward, voice hitching as she reported Andrew’s release and the words they’d exchanged.  She could feel May’s eyes on her, burning like coals only rivaled by the anger resonating from Lincoln’s clenched jaw and furrowed brow.  

 

Fitz’s account was brief as he explained his attempts to find Will and evade Ward, Jemma’s stomach lurching at his description of the planet, at his revelation as he saw Will’s threadbare leg.  The thought of him there, victim to the violent wind, the bite of the sand, Ward, and IT - it wasn’t until the first teardrop slid off her chin did Jemma notice she’d been crying.  Fitz’s eyes were on her, drawn up in guilt and apology and she longed to close the space between them, just collapse into the strength of his arms and never let go.

 

But resolute in her strength, she held firm, eyes fixed on that one beacon of hope standing opposite.  Fitz’s cuts had been cleaned and closed, the collar of his shirt slightly flared, revealing a whisper of skin and a trail of stubble.  Jemma noticed how he tensed at Coulson’s voice, hands clenching and unclenching as though they knew something they were unable to share.  

 

Falling into step behind him as they all retreated back to their bunks, Fitz didn’t seem surprised as her shoulder came up to brush against his.  They hesitated at her door and she held it open for him, eyes pleading.  

 

“Jemma -”

 

“I know.”  And then with a wry laugh she continued, “I can’t seem to stop myself from asking too much from you.”

 

Fitz looked up at her then, blue eyes shadowed as he let out a heated breath and bit his lip.  His hands were perched on his hips as his body settled into it’s anxious bounce and he winced at the exertion.  

 

“Okay,” he answered finally, his voice neither soft nor firm, but instead living somewhere in between.  

 

He paced nervously, facing the wall to allow Jemma privacy as she changed, hands taking turns running through the gamut of his usual mannerisms, raking through his hair, pinching the bridge of his nose, rubbing the back of his neck.  Eventually he made his way to the bed and sloughed off his shoes to sit upright with his arms crossed and head resting against the wall.  Jemma watched him carefully and she crawled in under the sheets, matching his weak smile before scooting over to rest her head on his knee.  She wove her hands possessively around his leg as his hand came down to tangle in her hair.  It broke her heart that he wouldn’t - couldn’t - lay next to her, but Jemma understood why.  

 

Fatigue finally overtaking, their eyes slid closed and the two were lost to the pull of their nightmares, tied together only by the twining of fingers.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This, along with the other one-shot in this series, will be a lead into to some other post 3x10 speculative pieces I'm working on . . .
> 
>  
> 
> As always - your thoughts are so valuable to me! Please let me know what you think!


End file.
